


You Belong With Me

by CateAdams



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: First Time, Hotel Sex, M/M, Pon Farr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CateAdams/pseuds/CateAdams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An innocent misunderstanding leads to Jim interfering with Spock’s reluctantly arranged marriage, inadvertently exposing a deeply-held cultural secret. However, it also leads to a surprisingly logical proposal. Now, they’re together, and just have to work out the details. And then there’s an unexpected complication. Good thing they’re on shore leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Complicated Problem, And A Logical Solution

(posted on ksarchive.com on 27 March 2014)

 

Chapter One: A Complicated Problem, And A Logical Solution

 

     Spock adjusted the high collar of his dark gray tunic, taking advantage of the solitude of the gardens to indulge in a touch of very human fidgeting. He had arrived quite early, with the excuse that it was only logical to personally acquaint himself with the lush greenery and brilliant flowers that were this planet’s hallmark before his meeting. However, the shimmering clear water running along the shaded path did not draw his eye; nor did the exotic birds singing sweetly in the whispering treetops overhead. His attention was completely focused on the task at hand.

     This task, which could ultimately mean his life. His father had sent him a message several weeks before, informing him of the latest hardship that had befallen his people. The recent tragedy of losing their homeworld was now compounded by the tragedy of losing a number of unbonded males to abrupt onsets of particularly vicious cycles of _pon farr._ And although Spock had not yet felt any stirrings of his Vulcan blood in that respect, his father quite logically insisted that he be prepared. This was easier said than done, however. Unbonded Vulcan females were few and far between, the first officer of the _Enterprise_ was half-human, and he would be largely absent from any resultant family life due to his duties. But his father was the ambassador to the Federation, and, as humans would say, “pulled some strings”.

     And so, on the second day of his shore leave, Spock waited to meet with T’Heru, a Vulcan woman whose travels as a professional musician had saved her from her planet’s destruction, but not from the severing of her bond with her late husband. T’Heru’s mother was in the diplomatic corps, and knew Sarek personally, and an introduction had been arranged.

     Spock was strangely reluctant. Despite this being the most logical course of action, he did not wish to tie himself to a stranger whom he would see only infrequently. His relationship with Nyota had taught him that his human side required...attention. He knew, however, that his father would not accept such a reason, and he knew that this may be his only remaining opportunity to secure a mate of Vulcan blood, who would understand and be able to handle the hidden requirements of his secretive physiology. _Kaiidth._ An arranged marriage would be infinitely preferable to dying painfully of fever. He straightened and swallowed, his hands flexing slightly, thinking of a conversation with his former lover. Nyota was well-versed in Vulcan culture and fluent in its language, and she had loved him. But, she had not understood him. Particularly after his catastrophic loss of control when the captain died, she had not accepted that although he could choose not to feel where their relationship was concerned, his barriers were tenuous when Jim was involved. Spock had sensed jealousy from her, and anger, which had been illogical. Jim was his friend, a thing rarely acknowledged or even admitted amongst Vulcans, and a unique relationship which was independent of anything shared between himself and Nyota. Or so he had unsuccessfully argued.

     The sound of footsteps from the nearby pathway had him schooling his expression into careful impassivity, and he straightened his posture even more, clasping his hands behind his back. But, the footsteps were somehow too quick, with an audible eagerness to them, and Spock sensed the familiar presence an instant before it appeared around the corner, breathless and slightly flushed.

     “Spock! Is she here yet? Am I late?” Jim Kirk’s blue eyes were wide, and he bent over for a moment to rest his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

     “Captain? No, T’Heru has not yet arrived. May I ask what it is you are doing here?”

     Jim stood up, tugging at his tunic. “I’m here for you! Uh, you know, for support.” A guilty look flashed across his face, quickly replaced by an easy smile. “When we talked last night, it sounded like you might want some help.”

     Spock raised an eyebrow. He had, of course, made no such request outwardly; indeed it would be most inappropriate. However, now, in the charismatic human’s presence, he felt somewhat pleased. He was careful not to let it show on his face, but he knew Jim could sense it anyway by the way his smile turned into a grin.

     “So, is she late?” Jim moved to stand slightly closer, by Spock’s side, his arms crossed conspiratorially in front of him.

     “No, Jim. Our scheduled appointment is not for another three point two minutes.”

     “Are you nervous?” Jim nudged Spock’s arm with his elbow. “You’ll do great.”

     “Vulcans do not suffer from anxiety,” Spock replied loftily. He had not told Jim of the reason why meeting T’Heru was of such necessity, merely stating that his father had wished it. Jim had filled in some of the blanks and pronounced this a ‘blind date’ with a curious mixture of surprise and annoyance. The captain had then rapidly changed the subject, which was partially why his impromptu presence here had been so unexpected.

     Jim merely grunted absently, his eyes focused on the pathway from whence he had just arrived, his presence glowing warm against Spock’s senses. Since Jim’s temporary death, their friendship had grown increasingly close, and Spock had recently noticed a mental link forming between them, quite spontaneously. He had not been surprised by this; considering his counterpart’s claim that their friendship would be “defining”, a high degree of mental compatibility would be logical to expect. And he found that, despite himself, the link offered some degree of comfort. Jim’s easy acceptance of him was a strong contrast to what he had experienced from most others. And the young human had been visibly happy when Spock had informed him of the weak connection. So now, Spock’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and remained that way even when he heard more measured footfalls approaching.

     A tall, dark-haired Vulcan turned the corner, an eyebrow arching as she took in the two officers waiting there. She was slender, and appeared to be a few years older than Spock, with dark brown eyes and a face that would have been beautiful if it had held any warmth. Spock felt Jim tense next to him.

     T’Heru stopped and raised her hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting. “You are Spock?”

     Spock stepped forward, returning the gesture. “I am.” He lowered his hand. “This is my captain, James Kirk.”

     T’Heru looked over at the human before returning her gaze to Spock. “Do you require a chaperone?”

     Jim snorted, and Spock repressed a sharp feeling of irritation. “Negative. James is here as my friend.”

     Jim raised a passable _ta’al_ and nodded to T’Heru. “It’s good to meet you, ma’am.”

     “Captain.” T’Heru’s voice was dismissive, and she raised her chin, addressing Spock again, “Spock, I am not familiar with human traditions, but I will not speak of our pending arrangement nor the reasons for it in front of your captain; he is an outworlder.”

     “Arrangement?” Jim’s tone held an undertone of confusion.

     “Jim,” Spock turned to face his friend. “If you would not mind, I require privacy in order to speak with T’Heru further.”

     Jim glanced from one impassive countenance to the other and frowned. But his response was interrupted by the soft beeping of Spock’s communicator.

     “Please excuse me,” Spock said, walking a short distance away and flipping open the unit. It was Lieutenant Caron with a confirmation that the transfer of a delicate sample set had been completed. Spock answered Caron’s questions succinctly and signed off, aware that Jim and T’Heru had been conversing in lowered tones. As he crossed over to Jim’s side, he could tell that the conversation had not been a pleasant one.

     Jim’s eyes were narrowed and his arms were crossed sharply over his chest. T’Heru was standing stiffly, and her face was completely blank. As Spock approached, she turned towards him. “Is it true that you share a mental link with this human?”

     Spock had never before had an inclination to utilize a colorful human metaphor, but he felt a strong compulsion now. He resisted. “James and I share a link, yes.” He did not understand why this would be a problem; it was usual in Vulcan culture to share links with family, and Jim was practically that to him.

     T’Heru inclined her head. “I must decline the arrangement.”

     Spock blinked, but maintained his composure. “May I inquire as to your reasoning?”

     She met his eyes. “I must confess that prior to our meeting I was not sanguine about joining with you. You are half-human, and, I wish for a fully Vulcan union.” She glanced at Jim before continuing, “My controls were strongly tested after the fall of our world and the loss of my bondmate, and I do not intend to allow potential emotional weakness into my mind. Also, I find your choice of career concerning, as your chances of perishing in the line of duty are much higher than I find acceptable in a mate. Finally, I submit that if you already have a successful bond with a human, then perhaps your mind is more suited to such.”

     Jim’s mouth was hanging open, but Spock simply nodded. “I understand.”

     T’Heru raised her hand in the _ta’al._ “I wish you long life and prosperity.”

     “Live long and prosper, T’Heru.”

     With one final glance at Jim, T’Heru turned and walked smoothly away. Spock lowered his hand and stood motionless, concentrating on his controls. There was a powerful whirl of emotion threatening to overwhelm him, and he struggled to contain it. Sudden panic, that this might be sealing his death warrant, anger at T’Heru’s words, anger at himself for not acting sooner to limit the danger in which he now found himself. He realized that his behavior towards finding a mate had been most human: denial, self-indulgence, and arrogant presumption until it may now be too late. And now all he had left was a human condolence; hope that perhaps his _pon farr_ was still years away.

     As the emotions slowly subsided under relentless mental discipline, Spock became aware of Jim’s eyes on him, and he took a breath, tightening his jaw as he turned to face his friend.

     “Spock, uh, that wasn’t just a blind date.” The human’s voice was low, and there was fear underneath it.

     “No, Jim. It was not.” With his emotions in check, Spock remembered something. “How did T’Heru know about our link?”

     Jim swallowed, his face unnaturally pale. “I told her.”

     There was a swell of irritation, quickly damped down. After T’Heru’s explanation of her rejection of him, Spock knew that whatever Jim had said only brought things to an easier conclusion. She would not bond with a half-human, and he could not change what he was. This was simply the latest in a long line of denials by his homeworld; a confirmation that he did not truly belong. _Kaiidth._

     Jim’s eyes were searching his face, and Spock could dimly sense the human’s emotions swirling as strongly as his had. Confusion, guilt, anger, protectiveness, and something else. At the moment, Spock did not wish to delve deeper. He bit his lower lip absently, a habit from his childhood, and took a step back. “I believe I will return to the hotel.” He needed to contact his father.

     The captain was visibly anxious now. “I fucked this up, didn’t I? Spock, what happened? What was that arrangement she kept going on about?”

     Spock gazed at him, and the moment brought into sharp contrast how little they understood about each other’s cultures, despite their personal and professional closeness. For him to discuss this openly with an outworlder was unthinkable. But it had also been unthinkable for him to join Starfleet, and to remain there. And so had been racing after the man responsible for Jim’s death, intent on bloody revenge. Spock made a decision.

     “Walk with me, Jim.” He turned down the path opposite to where T’Heru had disappeared, hearing Jim match his steps alongside. The gardens were as secluded a place as any on the planet, and Spock’s acute hearing would pick up any eavesdroppers. “There is something that no outworlder may know; basic and ancient to Vulcan culture. It is the reason that Vulcan children are bonded so early and why unbonded Vulcans are rare. You must keep this in the strictest confidence.”

     “I will.” Jim’s voice was serious.

     “Every seventh year of their adult lives, Vulcan males endure _pon farr,_ a time of mating. It is shrouded in secrecy because of what happens during this time. We are stripped of our logic and control and succumb to our base instincts. I am unbonded, as my intended perished with Vulcan, and have not yet experienced this time. However, my father recently communicated that, since the loss of Vulcan, unbonded males on the colony are falling to unpredictable onsets of _pon farr,_ resulting in death. This meeting was for me to secure a mate in case that situation comes to pass.”

     Jim abruptly stopped in his tracks, reaching out and grabbing Spock’s arm, a wash of panic flowing against the Vulcan’s shields. “Spock, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I’ll go after her; tell her I was full of shit, anything.”

     Spock gently pulled his arm away, but remained standing next to his friend. “There is no need; she would not have bonded with me.”

     “But, this is just sex, right? You can find someone. I mean... .”

     His voice trailed off as Spock shook his head slightly. “No, Jim, it requires a mental bond as well as physical interaction.” At his friend’s stricken expression, Spock tilted his head. “This may not be an issue for many years. My father was simply attempting to protect me.”

     “But you said that unbonded males on the colony were being affected.”

     “They are. However, they are fully Vulcan and I am not. Perhaps I will be immune to the effect.”

     Jim was biting on a thumbnail, looking at a nearby patch of greenery, appearing lost in thought. Spock studied him. “Jim, I do not understand how the subject of our link was brought up between you and T’Heru.”

     The captain’s cheeks colored slightly. “She asked me point blank why I was there. I said I was your friend, and she told me that Vulcans don’t indulge in friendships, so, logically, I was something else to you.”

     Spock raised an eyebrow as Jim continued, his cheeks coloring even more, “So, I said that was probably true because we have a mental link and then you came back over.”

     When Spock remained silent, Jim raised his hands defensively. “Look, I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said it. I shouldn’t have even been there, and I can see now how it totally fucked things up. We’ll solve this, Spock. I’m not going to let you die.”

     Spock barely heard him, however, his mind turning over and over what T’Heru had said; of what Nyota had implied. He thought of his inability to define his relationship with Jim; their obvious mental compatibility, the strong inclination to spend time together, the ease with which the human could reduce his controls to shreds. He thought of Jim as a friend, because that was how had Jim defined them, how his counterpart had defined them. But Jim was closer to him than anyone. He was his family. His... .

     “Jim, do you wish to be my mate?”

     The captain had been in the middle of another rambling apology and stopped, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. “Uh, what was that again?”

     Spock tilted his head. “I believe you heard me.”

     “Spock, uh, I don’t think...that would be...I mean, what?”

     “Jim, you are my friend. You have risked your career and your life for me, and I would do the same for you. We share a high degree of mental affinity. I sense your regard for me and indeed, I return it. And your actions with regard to T’Heru indicate that you experienced a degree of jealousy, which would suggest that you wish to command my attention more exclusively.”

     Jim had taken a step back and was staring. “But wouldn’t that be illogical?”

     “In what respect?”

     The captain sputtered, “I’m a guy.” At Spock’s lack of reaction, he continued, waving his hands for emphasis, “And you’re into girls. Aren’t you?”

     “I see no reason why my sexual response would differ as a result of your gender. A primary indicator of a successful bonding is strong mental compatibility, which... .”

     “Which we have. So you said,” Jim interrupted. He started pacing. “Um. Well, unless this is a huge joke and Bones is going to fall out of a bush in about five seconds laughing his ass off, then, uh, okay.” He stopped pacing and stared at the ground in front of him as if he couldn’t believe his own words. He raised his eyes to meet Spock’s and his voice was barely audible. “Okay.”

     Spock allowed a small smile to quirk the corners of his mouth.

     Jim gave a tentative half-smile back, still looking quite shell-shocked. “So, what do we do now?”

     Spock allowed the tiny smile to remain. “As I said before, Jim, there is no immediate threat to my life. Perhaps we could attempt to interact socially under our new relationship parameters.”

     “You mean, go on a date?”

     “Affirmative.”

     “Okay. Uh, want to get something to eat?”

     “Affirmative.”

     Jim let out a slightly hysterical-sounding laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Great. Well, let’s go someplace where they serve huge drinks. No offense, but I think I need one.”

     Spock straightened, thinking of what his father would say regarding this new development. “I believe I shall have one as well.” And this time, Jim’s laugh rang out true and full, filling the Vulcan’s soul with contentment.

 

 


	2. If I'd Known You Could Kiss Like That...

Chapter Two: If I’d Known You Could Kiss Like That...

 

     Jim sat in a back booth slowly spinning his glass in his hands, watching his first officer eat. In a rare show of nervousness, the captain had already wolfed down his own food and had just finished his second drink. He licked his lips and motioned to the waiter for another. “So, uh, assuming this new social interaction strategy works out, what comes next?”

     Spock put his fork down and tilted his head. “Formalizing a bond is quite simple, Jim, especially when the parties involved already share a preliminary link.”

     “Okay. So we’ll need to meld, then.”

     “Yes.”

     Jim paused as the waiter delivered another drink and cleared his empty plates away. Studying his friend, he lowered his voice. “Spock, are you sure you want me for this? Like you said, you probably have time; maybe you’ll find someone else.”

     “That is improbable.” Spock’s dark eyes were now completely focused on Jim. “My mixed heritage and career path combined with the Vulcan population crisis make it unlikely that l will find a mate among my father’s people, as T’Heru so succinctly pointed out. Furthermore, on a more personal level, I find myself drawn to you. As a colleague and friend, of course; but with the knowledge that you are amenable to becoming my bondmate, I find the prospect of sexual intimacy with you to be most stimulating.”

     Jim had started to roll his eyes at the beginning of Spock’s speech, but by the end of it he had practically choked on his drink, grabbing a napkin to wipe his chin. “What do you mean, stimulating?”

     Spock’s eyebrow rose. “I am currently experiencing symptoms of arousal in your presence.”

     Jim surreptitiously pinched himself under the table, as this sounded suspiciously like the beginning of one of his fantasies. “Um.”

     The Vulcan leaned back in his chair, placing his napkin neatly next to his plate. “I am aware that an abrupt change of status or circumstance can require some time for humans to process, and perhaps this is not an appropriate juncture to introduce the possibility of physical intimacy between us.”

     Jim waved his hands. “No, no, I’m fine with it. Totally fine. In fact, I’m more comfortable doing that than, you know, actual dinner and conversation.” He gave a suggestive chuckle, which trailed off as he saw Spock’s eyes narrow slightly. “Not that I’ll be doing it anymore, though. With anyone else, I mean.”

     Spock’s eyes widened and he glanced away. “I have no claim on your person; I apologize for my lapse in control.”

     Jim shook his head and laughed quietly. “Actually, Spock, I think you already do have a bit of a claim. I acted like a jealous asshole busting up your meeting earlier, and then I did agree to consider bonding with you. And you already have a mental link with me.” He allowed his voice to roughen somewhat on the last sentence, and watched his friend’s breathing quicken and the muscles in his jaw tighten. Jim smirked. “Maybe I should get the check.”

     “Indeed.”

 

 

 

     The short walk back to Jim’s hotel room was filled with anticipation. As the door slid shut behind the human, he keyed in the privacy lock and turned. Spock was standing a respectful distance away, hands held loosely at his sides, but his eyes were blazing with barely concealed desire. Jim slowly stepped forward until they were face to face, until he could almost feel the warmth coming from Spock’s body, but the Vulcan didn’t move. “It’s okay,” he said softly, and extended his hand, two fingers outstretched, to caress the side of Spock’s face, across a pointed ear, and down over his jawline. His friend leaned almost imperceptibly into the touch and Jim decided that his extra-curricular study of some of the particulars of Vulcan culture had completely paid off.

     The thought had barely crossed his mind when a warm hand snaked around the back of his head, gently pulling him forward. As their lips met, the captain felt his thrill of desire turn into a wave, and felt a twinge of pleased surprise as Spock’s mouth expertly moved over his, coaxing his lips to part, their tongues touching and then sliding together in a way that forced a low moan out of the back of Jim’s throat. The Vulcan’s other hand had moved down Jim’s back and was pressing hot and hard on his ass, pulling the human’s body firmly against its Vulcan counterpart. Jim’s hands were fisted in his first officer’s hair and he couldn’t help undulating his hips gently, the warmth and pleasure of Spock’s mouth and the heat of his body taking over the captain’s senses.

     The kiss went on until Jim finally forced himself to break away, panting and light-headed from the lack of oxygen. He stumbled back a few steps and stared. “Fuck! Why haven’t we done this before? If I’d known you could kiss like that, I... .”

     “Would have suggested this activity in lieu of chess?”

     Jim let out a sharp laugh. “You know Bones thinks that’s a euphemism anyway, right?”

     Spock was staring at him almost hungrily. “I wish for more. I wish to take you.”

     Jim smirked. “Go ahead.”

     But the Vulcan held himself back. “If we do this, I will bond us; I will not be able to avoid it.”

     Jim’s smirk faded. He was incredibly turned on, and pretty sure that a bond was where they were ultimately headed, but to make the leap so precipitously struck an involuntary chord of fear in him. And he knew Spock could sense it by the way the Vulcan took a breath and turned away slightly, clasping his hands together in front of him and shutting his eyes in an effort to regain his control.

     Jim watched him in silence for a moment, as his friend’s face slowly assumed his normal impassive mask and his hands and shoulders relaxed. When he opened his eyes, however, their expressive depths still held the evidence of his internal struggle.

     “I require meditation; my control is not as it should be.” He paused, slanted eyebrows coming together slightly. “I do not understand your consistent ability to incur such emotional turmoil in me.”

     Jim shrugged. “If it helps any, you do quite a number on me, too.” He smiled, “It’s just not as obvious in a human, I guess.”

     “Perhaps.” Spock’s posture straightened and he inclined his head. “I will take my leave. Would you care to have breakfast together?”

     “I’ll look forward to it. Your room is just down the hall, right? Stop by whenever you’re ready in the morning.” Jim wanted to ask him to stay, even just to innocently sleep next to each other, but he didn’t want to push. Sensing the need for reassurance, Jim held out his hand, two fingers extended.

     Spock’s impassive mask broke slightly as the corners of his mouth turned up, and he stepped forward to press his fingers against Jim’s. They stood for a moment, each marveling at the gentle sensations shimmering between their joined hands, and then Spock slowly broke their contact, his eyes meeting Jim’s once more before he left.

     Jim smiled as he stared at the now-closed door. This was fast, and intense, but so far it had been a hell of a fantasy come true, and he couldn’t wait to see what was next.

 


	3. Slow Burn

Chapter Three: Slow Burn

 

     Spock opened his eyes into the darkness of the hotel room where he knelt in attempted meditation. His internal time sense told him that it had been just under five hours since he had left Jim. Four point nine hours, to be precise. And he had not been able to achieve even the shallowest of meditative levels.

     The events of the previous evening had left him curiously restless. He did not regret the turn of events that led to Jim accepting the possibility of eventually becoming his mate, and indeed, as the evening had progressed, he considered the situation most logical. In addition to the reasons he had already enumerated, he could now add that they shared a strong physical response to each other that would satisfy the human need for sexual fulfillment. Spock allowed himself a small sigh as he considered that such primitive human needs were apparently not limited to Jim.

     The lapse of his controls had been deplorable. First, he had exhibited overt possessiveness of one who was not yet, officially, his mate, and then he had to visibly struggle to regain his equilibrium after they had kissed. And he had practically demanded sexual intercourse a mere two point one hours after their initial, brief mention of bonding. Fortunately, Jim appeared to understand his...enthusiasm. And his subsequent need for meditation.

     The lust that had sparked in him when he had touched his friend had been overwhelming, and with the unsuccessful attempt at restoring his controls, he felt slightly disoriented, his muscles tense, his heart rate too fast. His breathing was shallower than normal, and his body temperature was... .

     For the second time in matter of hours, Spock experienced a strong impulse to utter a colorful human metaphor. This time, he indulged himself; after all, it seemed quite appropriate to the situation.

 

 

 

     Jim paced inside his room in front of the door. It was still very early in the morning, but there was something hovering at the edges of his consciousness; an internal alert that something was wrong. “Fuck it,” he mumbled to himself, and left his room, walking purposefully down the hallway. If he interrupted Spock in the middle of his shower or something, well, there were worse things.

     He stopped outside Spock’s door and hit the buzzer. Several seconds went by, and Jim was about to ring again when the door slid open. Jim stepped in and glanced around, finally noticing his first officer sitting stiffly in a chair across the room, his hands steepled in front of him, his face overly pale and drawn.

     “Hey, you okay?” Jim peered at him. “You look like shit.”

     There was a pause, and brown eyes met blue, and Jim recognized fear where he had never seen it before. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.” He walked forward, stopping a few feet away. From here, he could see that Spock was shivering. “How long?”

     “I became aware of the symptoms three hours ago. My meditation was unsuccessful, and I believe that my lack of control yesterday was also an indication.”

     Jim stepped closer and knelt down in front of his friend. “I thought you seemed a little eager.” He smiled. “Good thing you managed to find a mate.”

     Spock looked away. “I have not. You are wary of a bond; I can sense it.”

     “Well, can you also sense how much I need you? I said before I’m not going to let you die. And, even if your timing is a little short with regard to me getting used to the idea, we are conveniently on shore leave. And we have a posh hotel room.” He searched the Vulcan’s face. “Will you need a healer? Or McCoy?”

     “I do not believe so; if you are here.”

     “Then we’re all set.” Jim stood up. “How long does this last anyway?”

     “Hours, or days.” Spock hesitated. “This may be abnormal considering the circumstances on the colony, and my human blood.”

     Jim raised his eyebrows but kept what he hoped was a reassuring smile on his face. “Okay. I’m, uh, going to grab some stuff from my room. You’ll be alright until I get back?”

     There was a nod. “Yes.”

     “Okay.”

     Jim turned to go, and was stopped by the soft sound of his name. Spock had lowered his hands to the armrests and was looking at his captain intensely. “I will not be myself. I do not know exactly what to expect, except that I will lose my controls completely. I am sorry.”

     The captain gave a wry smirk. “Well, if yesterday was anything to go by, I don’t think I’ll be complaining. I’ll be right back.”

 

 

 

     His captain had been gone for almost an hour. Perhaps he would not return. _No!_ Spock forced down a burst of panic. Jim will be back. He said he will be back. The room was freezing, but any extra layers of clothing were smothering and Spock could not stop shivering. He was restless, and the disturbance to his body was steadily spreading to his mind. He could barely manage to complete the elementary practice of the mind rules taught to children. Barely. But he tried again anyway.

     A small corner of his mind chastised himself again for his appalling lack of foresight. An even deeper part exuded irritation that, should he survive, Spock would have to admit to his father that his dismissive and reluctant attitude towards finding a mate had been most inappropriately human.

     His hands would not stop shaking. At the moment, he was not interested in sexual contact in the slightest. He simply wished to be warm, and for his mouth to stop feeling so dry. He shifted in his seat. His muscles were taut and almost cramping, but he did not want to move for fear that worse symptoms would exhibit themselves. If only Jim would come back.

 

 

 

     The captain jogged down the hallway, carrying a large duffel bag and his comm unit. He had spent the better part of an hour getting supplies, and using said supplies to prepare himself. Hours or days. Time of mating. Jim was smart enough to figure out what that meant, however vague Spock’s description had been. Now, the captain arrived at his friend’s door and rang the buzzer, breathing somewhat heavily. This time, the door slid open almost immediately, and Jim felt a small pang of guilt for having been gone so long.

     And indeed, things seemed to have devolved significantly, because Jim was greeted by the sight of his first officer seated on the floor against the foot of the bed, knees drawn up to his chest, rocking back and forth almost imperceptibly, his arms wrapped around his legs, hands balled into fists.

     “Jim.” The sound of his name was practically a sigh of relief, and accompanied by a breathtaking smile.

     “I’m back. I’m sorry it took so long; are you alright? You look, uh... .”

     “I am pleased that you have returned. I thought that perhaps you would have decided against it.” The smile had disappeared, replaced by an intense stare. “I believe this is proceeding quite rapidly.”

     “Okay, uh, just let me put this stuff down.” Jim opened the duffel and set it next to the bed, placing a few items on the nightstand: lube, a water bottle, his comm unit. He had changed into a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, and kicked off his shoes before walking back over to the foot of the bed, where Spock hadn’t moved.

     “Right. All set.” Jim slowly sat down next to his friend, shifting so their shoulders touched. “Do you need anything right now?”

     Spock blinked. The rocking had stopped, but the shivering was still there. “I do not know.”

     Jim looked at his friend’s profile. He was suddenly very glad he was here and not some stranger. Not T’Heru, with her cold stare. He felt a sudden impulse to touch and reached out to card his fingers through silky black hair. Spock closed his eyes, and as Jim’s fingers brushed the Vulcan’s scalp the captain could feel the fever heat pouring off Spock’s skin. Not knowing if it would work, Jim tried to push feelings of reassurance and calm through their contact.

    

 

 

     Spock was pacing. Back and forth. Seven steps in one direction and then seven steps in the other. Jim was here. He was here and he wasn’t leaving. He was sitting on the bed watching, but not leaving.  Even though he probably should leave. The restlessness was giving way to something else. The deep chill of the room had dissipated in the painful burning sensations that were radiating along his arms and legs. Spock’s heart was racing, and his head was pounding. It was becoming difficult to think. His blood was burning and his muscles were aching. All over his body; a deep, throbbing ache.

 

 

 

     Two hours had gone by since Jim had arrived in Spock’s room. For most of that, they had simply sat together at the foot of the bed, Spock barely moving except for the constant trembling. Jim had stroked his hair soothingly for a while, before retreating to sit in silence, trying to project calm. Then, all of a sudden, Spock had shot up from the floor in one quick motion, moving to pace back and forth in front of Jim. His eyes were huge and fever-bright, a pale greenish flush on his cheekbones, and he was biting his lower lip.

     Jim had pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, watching. Spock was dressed in a loose- fitting black tunic and pants which, as he moved, accentuated the long, lean lines of his body. His hair was disarrayed from where Jim had played with it, and his hands were flexing open and closed. The captain had the sense that whatever was coming, was coming soon, and he was becoming aroused just thinking about it, feeling his penis begin to harden.

     As if some unheard signal had sounded, Spock stopped in his tracks, turning to face Jim. The Vulcan was breathing heavily, his mouth half-open, and his pupils were dilated so that his eyes were almost black. Jim stood up, keeping his movements deliberately slow. For an instant they stared at each other, and then, with a movement almost too quick for Jim to process, he was suddenly on his back on the bed, a hard, hot body pressing him into the sheets.

 

 


	4. Here We Go

Chapter Four: Here We Go

 

 

     Jim was aware of his clothes being perfunctorily torn off of his body; joining the remains of what Spock had been wearing seconds before. He tensed, wondering suddenly if Spock’s loss of control would lead to violence, only to feel hot skin slide across his body as his partner settled against him. He felt hands stroke down his arms and shoulders, across his chest and along his flanks. He felt lips and tongue explore his neck and collarbone, moving down to his sensitive nipples and further still. He could sense his friend breathing in his scent deeply, and almost cried out in surprised pleasure as a hot mouth surrounded his erection, fingers delving gently and possessively deeper, pressing into his already prepared entrance.

 

 

 

     His human mate was beautiful and his luminous mind called to him. His sensitive hands traced every line of smooth skin, felt every curve of strong muscle, sensed every involuntary tremble and pleasured twitch. His mate’s scent was intoxicating, and his taste addictive. The way his cooler body closed tightly over his fingers was extremely arousing. Spock felt his mate’s hips undulate gently as his climax approached, heard him cry out, tasted the essence of his release. He swallowed, taking a primal pleasure in sensing his mate’s orgasm through their weak mental link. But, he needed more. He needed to join them, to claim him fully.

 

 

 

     Jim’s mind reeled from the powerful wave of pleasure that washed over him and felt Spock release his spent organ, removing his fingers gently. He arched up towards the heat of his partner’s body as Spock leaned over him, capturing his mouth in a deep, demanding kiss and pushing his legs back. He felt a hardness against his entrance, and then an insistent, slowly advancing pressure. He hissed at the sting and stretch and at the abrupt feeling of fullness, trying to relax. There was a moment where he began to panic, and then hot fingers pressed against his face and he fell into the meld, the pain and panic disappearing.

 

 

 

     The link was strong and true, and Spock began to build their bond around it as his body instinctively claimed his mate. He felt their minds come together, closer and closer, drawn inexorably. As if from a distance he felt himself climax, his pleasure washing over him and his mate and sealing their bond. But he was not spent, and his body continued moving, seeking to confirm their connection and his claim. He felt satisfaction as his mate’s body responded in kind and he mentally caressed their new bond, murmuring words of praise and gratitude.

 


	5. We'll Be Alright

Chapter Five: We’ll Be Alright

 

     Jim blinked awake from where he was sprawled out across the rumpled bed. The sheets were damp from sweat and semen, and the air was thick and stale. He grimaced slightly as he rolled over, feeling twinges in unusual places, and glanced at the chrono. His eyes widened as he realized they had been at it for over six hours. The curtains were drawn closed, but there was enough light for him to see the long form of his new bondmate laid out face-down next to him, a blanket barely covering his naked body. Spock was breathing slowly and steadily and appeared to be sleeping, and Jim pushed himself up so that his head was resting on a pillow, trying to take in the situation.

     His head hurt. Not as much as his ass, but still noticeably. And he could feel something, like another stream of perceptions, currently dark and calm, but with a background insistency, like a sunburn. He mentally prodded at it, curious, and felt the darkness waver and begin to break. Spock stirred and turned over, blinking up at him, his dark eyes reflecting the disorientation Jim could now sense clearly through the newly expanded link.

     “Hey there,” Jim croaked, his voice rough as if he’d been shouting.

     “Jim.” Spock’s voice was weak.

     “You alright?” The perceptions in his mind had brightened, and the previous calm there had shifted sharply into a dull burning feeling. Jim winced at the unfamiliar sensations.

     Spock’s eyes now held a touch of confusion and desperation and his hands were shaking again. The bond pulsed sharply in Jim’s head, and after a brief moment of fearful helplessness, the captain decided to take charge. “Okay, listen. We’re going to get up. I’ve gotta take a piss and we both have to get cleaned up and get some water.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, flinching as his muscles protested. Walking around to the other side, he helped his bondmate to his own feet. The touch of their skin sent the bond throbbing in Jim’s mind, and he tried to shove away the ache, guiding his unsteady mate into the nearby bathroom and, hitting the buttons for the hot water, pushed him into the shower.

     With their skin-to-skin connection broken, Jim leaned back against the cool counter for a moment, regaining his composure. Right. He emptied his bladder and drained several glasses of water before walking back into the main room and popping a couple pain meds. The duffel next to the bed contained two changes of sheets, ordered when he had returned to his room earlier, and Jim efficiently replaced the soiled bedding, smirking to himself; learning to maintain a perfect bunk at the Academy was paying off.

     The perceptions at the back of his mind were growing in intensity, and were, so far, not entirely pleasant. Jim shook his head; he was committed, no matter what. Squaring his shoulders, he headed back towards the bathroom.

 

 

 

     The hot water poured over Spock’s skin, and he raised his face, relishing the soft sting of the spray. The throbbing ache of his muscles had largely eased, and the painful burning of his blood reduced to a dull, uncomfortable sensation. His mind felt muddled, and he was somewhat confused. His last clear memory had been of Jim seated next to him, gently stroking his hair. Jim. As he thought of his mate, he felt their newly strengthened link widen in his mind, felt his body’s immediate physical response. He felt panic welling up inside of him at his inability to control. Stumbling backwards, he felt the sharp chill of the shower wall against his body and he gasped, blinking the water out of his eyes, mentally pulling at the bond. He heard the shower door open and close and sensed the immediate presence of his mate. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. He reached... .

 

 

 

     Jim stepped into the shower and was immediately in possession of an armful of Vulcan. He grunted slightly at the strong embrace and the simultaneous mental wash of the bond flaring into his mind. He struggled for a split second, and then forced himself to relax. He took a deep breath, and then another, and felt his own imposed calm spreading to his bondmate’s restless mind, his own deliberate relaxation moving into the Vulcan’s taut body. He heard Spock make a gentle sigh into his neck and smiled, moving his hand down to his mate’s renewed erection and stroked firmly until he felt the stutter of Spock’s hips and the sudden heaviness to the body he held as muscles relaxed even more.

     Gently, he eased his mate away from him long enough to quickly wash them both with a handful of soap and allowed the water to rinse them clean. Spock’s eyes were half-closed, and the intense fever-heat from earlier was almost gone. Jim somehow maneuvered himself and Spock out, wrapped them in towels, and back into bed. Not minding the excess moisture still remaining, Jim pulled the blankets over them both and smiled again as his nearly unconscious mate instinctively wrapped himself around Jim’s body. With the full body contact and the suddenly languid atmosphere, the sensation of the bond in Jim’s head had become pleasing. Warm and gentle, full of affection, it shone agreeably between them. If he concentrated, Jim could sense his bondmate’s mind falling into the dark well of sleep. Knowing he also needed rest, Jim closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to drift.

 


	6. Now And Forever

Chapter Six: Now And Forever

 

     Spock opened his eyes to the sight of dark blond hair and the feeling of cool, human skin pressed along the front of his body. He was lying behind Jim, his arms wrapped firmly and possessively around him, their legs entangled. The Vulcan breathed in the scent of his human and mentally evaluated himself. The fever had broken, and the painful aching and burning sensations had gone. His mind felt clear and he could sense the bond gleaming brightly and soundly between them.  He felt a swell of satisfaction and contentment and realized that a few side-effects of the _pon farr_ remained. His controls were practically non-existent, and he was profoundly physically and mentally exhausted. His mouth was dry and he was thirsty, and he reluctantly released his bondmate, turning over and meaning to rise; pushing himself up on shaking arms before falling back onto the pillows, frustrated and embarrassed at his weakness.

     His movements had awoken Jim; Spock could sense it through the bond initially, and then watched his mate slowly turn onto his back, raising his arms in a long stretch before blinking his eyes and glancing over at Spock with an expectant expression.

     “You okay? You need me?”

     Spock shook his head. “I believe it is over.”

     “Really?” Jim’s tone was vaguely disappointed. “That was,” he craned his neck to peer at the chrono, “only about eighteen hours since you said the symptoms started.”

     “The entire process appears to have been accelerated.” Spock studied his mate. “You do not appear to be pleased.”

     Jim shrugged and pulled the sheet further over his body. “No, I’m glad it’s over for your sake.” He snorted delicately. “And I was definitely pleased. No worries there.”

     The bond was transmitting ripples of anxiety and doubt, and a strong sense of resignation. Spock turned onto his side, and reached two fingers to lightly caress Jim’s face. “I can feel your unease, Jim. What is wrong?”

     The human’s cheeks colored. “I don’t know. You needed me, and I kind of liked it. And I don’t regret any of what happened, but I’m not sure how I feel about that openness going away.”

     Spock hesitated, his fatigue making the words hard to find. In the prolonged silence, Jim cleared his throat. “Never mind.” He flashed a quick smile and crossed his arms, a forced teasing note in his voice. “Just tell me that we’re going to be able to have sex occasionally in between the seven-year cycle.”

     “Jim. May I have your thoughts?” Spock wasn’t sure how long he would be able to maintain the meld in his depleted state, but he had to try; his bondmate’s distress was unacceptable.

     There was a sigh. “Sure. Just go easy on me; I still have a bit of a headache from the last time.” Jim turned to face him, and Spock reached for his meld points.

     With the barest prompting, their minds flowed together as if they were meant to be entwined. Spock pushed forward all the feelings that were hovering within him, uncontrolled, towards his mate. And Jim accepted them, recognizing his friend’s difficulty in understanding and enunciating his emotional state. Gratitude was first, for Jim’s leap of faith. Pride, in the human’s bravery in the face of the unknown and unfamiliar. Reassurance, that the openness Jim saw and yearned for would always be there for him, within their bond. Desire, for the tactile affection and bodily pleasure of his mate. Love, an emotion that had been there for some time, bound in definitions of friend and brother, and now satisfying a new meaning within their newfound physical passion. Jim felt his mate’s mental voice wash over him, and realized that his fears were for naught.  _I shall always need and want you, ashayam. Your acceptance of me in all ways allows me to feel, finally, that I belong somewhere._

     The meld broke softly around them, and Jim grinned, leaning into the warmth of Spock’s hand where it still lay against his face. “You belong with me.”

 

THE END

 

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, and I do not make any money from this.

 

 


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